Shadows Casted By Moonlight
by Kia Vail-Kagami
Summary: Shonen Ai ficcy told (again) by Blank. Not much to say about it. I wish it would have been better.. T_T)


Uh, na, not what I wanted it to be… By far not… Arg! Okay, not much to say about this, beside that the grammar is bad, the spelling is worse and the whole story is awful. It is a Shonen-Ai story again, and it is, once again, told by Blank…

And… I did it again… sorry. ^^

Disclaimer: Belong to Squaresoft. Not belong to Kia. (Kia is poor Ronzo… arg, I should            never again play FFX)

Shadows Casted By Moonlight

By Kia

We'd always watch the stars together.

When the nights were long, and cold - it was then that the sky was the clearest, and the stars where shining down on us like emeralds. Beautiful but cold, and distant. And the more stars we could see the darker was the sky around them.

The wind is cold tonight.

I never liked sleeping alone in a cold bed, so I shared it with many, with strangers who caught my attention, with friends who didn't mind – the heat of a body beside mine was pleasant but it never meant more to me than that. Another person pressed against me in the darkness of the room, another face to be forgotten with the mornings light. Another name I didn't bother to recall. And when I was alone at night I'd often sit there, at the open window, when the air was warm enough, looking at the sky and, without knowing it, waiting for him to come to me, his light footsteps barely audible in the silence surrounding us, until he slit his warm arms around me from behind, pressing his face against my neck, letting me know without a word that he'd need me this night. Asking for my presence, asking for me to hold him. Asking – as if I'd ever have been able to say No.

No. Not to him.

He's been with others, like me, and I don't mind him, no, how could I? I only had to look into his eyes to see his reasons, see his soul, see why he here now, with me, when there were so many others in this city. When he was little, before he came to live with us, he gave his body away for a warm meal and the chance for few more days to life. Now he gave himself away for an arm around him at night and the promise that he won't be alone when he wake up. Sex has never meant that much to him. It is the fear of nightmares that drew him into the arms and beds of others, the fact that his demons were always sleeping beside him when nobody else did.

He never told me about this and I never asked. But I know what made him come to me in some nights, when he needed something more than what the others can offer him.

I knew him like no other ever had or ever could, for I am the one how held his soul. I have seen it, for the very first time, that day in that damned forest, when he accepted my sacrifice and turned around and left. I saw it in his eyes and I knew, I knew that there was something, something in that hurt and frightened soul of his that was mine alone.

There is also a little part of myself that will be his forever. But he'll never know that, no, it is a secret I will keep to myself.

He only knew that I would always be there for him. 

Always. 

Forever. 

There for him when he needed someone to hold him in the darkness, while the moonlight casted shadows of the trees outside on the floor, moving up and down with the wind. He did sleep with others but they would not wake him form his nightmares, they would now shoot his tears away, they would not place kisses onto his eyelids and tell him that everything was okay and let him cry in their arm until daybreak.

And they would never ever hold his fragile soul in their hands and watch it shatter between their fingertips. The shards falling to the floor, shimmering in the darkness like the stars in the sky.

 I can hear him now, moving behind me, soundless footsteps causing no echo in the silence of the night.

People are blind, never looking beyond what they see at first sight. He saved the world so they call him a hero and refuse to see how young he is, and how easy it is to hurt him. We tend to forget, and his behaviour was so distracting, but there was always something to remind me, a tear he cried in his sleep, his trembling body in my arms or a smile, so innocent  that it hurt. And everything of it is a small pain in my heart, that tells me that I am alive. And that he was my treasure to keep. Mine alone.

And every time I am with someone else I find myself searching for him in their faces. I don't know when exactly he became a part of me, but I remember a night when I watched his peaceful sleeping face in the moonlight and realised that I was absolutely and utterly willing to trade my life for his.

There is no moonlight here.

The sky is dark with angry clouds and a cold wind is tearing at my clothes and at my hair. The air smells like rain, like wet earth and a little bit like mist.

The leaves of the tree behind me rustle in the strong breeze and a few drops of icy water fall onto my head. A perfect night to spend inside, I think as I slowly let my fingers wander over the clam stone before me. A perfect night to spend together, pressed against each other under the covers of a warm bed, listening to the wind blowing around the house.

"Goodnight, Zidane." I whisper softly and the wind stops for a moment. "Sweet dreams."

And then, just before I turn around and go home, I add the words I wanted to avoid for they sound to ugly, so final, so true.

"Rest in peace."

Then I leave and don't look back. There is nothing worth looking back for. 

Maybe the air smells like tears tonight, but then again it is probably only the ocean.

-end-

10.14.2002


End file.
